Broken Glass
by KMPC
Summary: He's the reason why I have nothing, he broke apart my family, he tricked me into thinking he would protect me, when he's the very reason why I lost the most important person to me. He lied. The one man I trusted through everything broke me.


**A/N: **And I am back with a sad/family related one-shot involving Clare! Grab a tissue, and make sure no one is around, this one-shot made me cry. Haha, enjoy! Muah.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Degrassi, but I do own AJ Saudin, he told me I could have him.

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><p><strong>The glue that holds me together<strong>

He wasn't planned, and he wasn't regretful.

He's my life, my happiness, and literally the only thing that can keep me going everyday. People stop, they stare, they whisper, and they act like my life is important to them.

Everyday, I go through the same shit. Rumors, lies, assumptions, but never confronted. It's tiring, it's annoying, it's painful, but I stop myself and remember my little boy at home.

When the tears take over me, I remember that I have to stay strong. I have to, but I never do.

It's hard. I'm only seventeen, I have feelings, I have problems, I'm ashamed to say I'm a teen mom, but I am certainly not ashamed of my baby. Never.

He's not the reason I get judged, I am. He's not the reason why people are so quick to shut me out of their life; it's all on me. He's not the reason why I'm living the life I never wanted to live, it's all on me.

He's not to blame; he's just a baby.

I love him more than any other boy in the short amount of my existence. He's my life, my pride, my joy, my everything. If anything were to happen to him, I don't know what I would do.

After school, I walk to the sitter's home, and I see him on the bed. He's sleeping soundly, his mouth open, his tiny limbs sprawled on his blanket, and his lips moving, as if he's talking.

Me being the teenage girl that absolutely loves babies walk to the bed and I kiss his chubby face gently so he can wake up.

"Wake up, Sleepyhead." I whisper every time I try and wake him up.

He opens his big round eyes and yawns like a little kitty. He looks up at me, and smiles. He reaches his little arms up towards me, telling me to pick him up.

I lean down, pick him up and continue to kiss his chubby cheeks. I pay the sitter her ten bucks, and get his diaper bag. Before we leave, I lift his hand up for him and lets him wave goodbye before we make our way make home.

He likes to play with the collar of my uniform polo shirt whenever I carry him. He looks around him as we make our way home. Elders in their cars shake their head, girls from school stare and whisper, and the little kids wave and say Hi to him.

I ignore the stares, the whispers, the judging eyes, and the aching pain in my heart as I walk with my son, proudly in my arms.

When we get home, mom is cooking dinner, Glen is watching T.V., and Jake is in his room. I got used to them ignoring me, so I didn't waste my breath on them as I walked upstairs to our bedroom.

I put him in his playpen, and I change out of my uniform, and into sweats and a t-shirt.

Ever since I got pregnant, my mother refused to let me live with my dad, and refused to talk to me.

I don't know what it was, the fact that my dad was willing to support me in my time of need, or the fact that my mom was secretly competing with my dad on who can be the better parent, but I lost my mother.

She basically told me that I wasn't to live with my dad, and that she was going to let me live in the house until I turned eighteen.

It's hard. It's hard knowing you're living in a place where you're not wanted, where nobody wants you there. I get enough of that at school, you would think that I get a break when I get home, but I don't.

After dinnertime, I shower him, and I get him ready for bed, and into his footy pajamas with the giraffes on them.

He likes giraffes. As I lay in bed with my son next to me, I can't help but stare at him. His round chubby cheeks, his short dark brown hair, his little button nose, his overall chubby body, and his eyes that remind me of his father.

I rub his back, letting him relax so he could fall asleep faster. As soon as his eyes close, and his breathing becomes slow and steady, I know that he's sleeping. I put a pillow on the edges of the bed and bring him towards the middle of it, making sure any pillows weren't going to suffocate him.

Once again, I couldn't help but stare at him. How is it possible that one little boy could make you happy? He can't even speak yet, and he just makes me happy.

As I'm getting into the shower, I remember what this one girl said to me as I was leaving the bathroom. We ended up walking into each other, her shoulder hitting mine.

"_Watch it, slut."_

It hurts. People I didn't even know attended this school constantly call me names. I'm being judged and ridiculed for something that not everyone actually knows about.

They don't know me. They don't know absolutely anything about me, and yet, they have something to say about me.

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><p>"No." I whispered, feeling the warm tears streaming down my face, my father's hand on my shoulder.<p>

This was exactly what I tried to prevent. I tried my hardest from him getting sick, but knowing the medical history of my family, it was bound to happen.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Edwards." The doctor said sympathetically. She was a teen mom before, so she knew what I was going through. "Come by tomorrow and we'll start on treatment." She walked away down the hall, looking at me one last time before turning the corner.

This wasn't fair. I can handle the pain, the judgment, the kids at school, but not this. This was absolutely not fair. I made mistakes, not my baby. He's done nothing wrong, and yet he gets punished.

He's just a little boy. He doesn't know right from wrong, he survived one year and three months with nothing wrong, how did this suddenly pop up? I don't understand.

"Come on, Clare. Let's go get him." My dad said softly, guiding me to the nurse that was currently watching him. He was giggling in the young nurses arms. He had no idea why he was here, who this woman was, and what was about to happen.

He was going to go through pain. He was going to have to fight for his life and he hasn't even said a full sentence yet.

I remember when he was just eight months old. He was sitting on my chest, looking around mindlessly mumbling from his mouth. I hear him say "Mum."

I immediately sat up, eyes wide open, my arms holding his back to keep him from falling back. He smiled up at me and once again said, "Mum."

I hugged him tight to my body telling him how much I loved him and that he will always be my best friend.

It was hard watching him go into that doctor's room without me, crying, his tiny face red in anger and his arms thrashing around the air.

It was hard watching him slowly lose energy. I was slowly dying along with my son.

The looks at school changed from being disgusted with me to feeling sorry for me. I don't know how they found out about MY business with MY son that they all frowned upon.

They have absolutely no right to come up to me and apologize for what they did in the past. They certainly do not have my forgiveness, they don't have the right to think that they'll be forgiven after they judged me, mocked me, hated me, and hurt me.

As the days went by slower, his energy went up. Of course he was no longer that happy little infant that ran everywhere, but he would still laugh and smile, making my bad time in life better.

Except for this day. He was in my arms, chewing on my finger. He was teething and I couldn't afford any toys by myself at the moment. Dad offered to by me toys for him, but I knew mom would just get angry once she found them and demand to know where I got the money for it.

His eyes were growing heavier and heavier by the minute and I knew it was time. It was time for me to let my baby go. Let him be what he was to me: My little angel.

He was going to go up in the sky, watch over me, and make sure that I was all right. Although I wasn't going to be alright, knowing I wasn't going to have him with me anymore.

Before I knew it, his breathing was slowing and I resisted the urge to cry while he was still up. I was going to wait until he closed his eyes until I started the water works.

He blinked slowly just like his father. He smirked up at me (exactly like his father) and wrapped his tiny hand tightly around my hand. I smiled down at him and said, "I love you, Isaiah. Mommy will always love you."

He smiled big, showing off his one tooth, his dimples showing, and his eyes glowing with happiness. He said, "Mum." I nodded slowly with the smile still on my face a single tear dripping down my face. "Mum." I said softly.

I stood up and wrapped him tightly with his blanky with the giraffes on them. It was soft, yellow, and the one I had when I was little.

I cradled his body in my arms, rocking him back and forth until he finally closed his eyes, and then his breathing slowing until it stopped completely.

And then, I lived up to my nickname as the "Drama Queen" because I sure cried like one.

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><p>I sat on the bench emotionlessly. It was getting dark outside but I couldn't bring myself to go home. Back to his playpen, his toys, clothes, and even the smell he left on my pillows.<p>

I was worthless now. I quit. My grades are slipping. The once honor roll student with the straight A's was gone. The god-worshipping saint was no longer a saint. The loveable teenaged girl I was is gone.

God sure did fool me. He's the reason why I have nothing, he broke apart my family, he tricked me into thinking he would protect me, when he's the very reason why I lost my life. He lied.

I have no reason to believe anymore. The only thing I believe in right now is my angel watching over me.

When he pulled up to the curb, putting his new car in park I didn't move a muscle. I didn't look at him, I didn't move at all. I did what I did best most days, sat there.

He took a seat next to me on the bench. I could easily smell him. It was a smell that was mixed with clean, his cologne, and his house.

We sat there in silence, just staring out at the park. I took Isaiah here a few times when my mom or Jake was annoying me. I didn't want him in negative areas. This park was like my second home.

He rested his elbows on his knees, taking his head into his hands and trying to collect himself. I knew this was hard on him too, but honestly he was never there for me.

He was there for Isaiah, but never for me. I don't understand how I got all of the hate, but he didn't get one person calling him a slut or a baby mama. He got it easy.

"How you holding up?" He said with a hoarse voice. I didn't respond, afraid that the tears I've worked so hard to not show him would form. I've had to keep strong to prove to him that I was utterly fine without him when I knew the truth; I wasn't.

He sighed and turned his body towards me when I didn't respond. He put his hand on my knee and said, "Clare. Talk to me. You can't shut me out like this forever. He was my son too."

"And I was your son's mother." I snapped at him. He removed his hand from me and rested it on his own. He looked hurt and I didn't feel sorry for him one bit. I went through much worse things than having a girl yell at me.

"You were never there for me! I suffered for eight months, having people stare at me like I was on cirque olay. I got tormented and looked down upon everyday ever since he was born! I worked a shitty job just so I could have that proud feeling that I could actually care for him, I lived in a house were I wasn't wanted while you were off living your beautiful teenage dream! WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU WHEN I NEEDED YOU TO BE THERE FOR ME?" I yelled at him.

I had some serious tears come down my face but I didn't care. I was depressed, I was hurt, and I was missing the most precious gift that I had ever been given. I couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Clare. I tried. I really did, but you kept pushing me away." He said, his own tears falling from his eyes. I shook my head and sobbed, "So you gave up on me? I understand that we couldn't be in a relationship anymore, but the least you could have done was be there for the woman that gave your child life!"

"Clare…" Tears were literally falling from his eyes. He looked so much younger than ever. It was mind-boggling. The moment when you look vulnerable and lost is when you look younger.

He stood up and kneeled down in front of me, taking my hands in his own. "I love you, Clare. You know that. But I just wanted you to be happy. If it was me not being anywhere near you, than I would do that to make you happy."

I stood up pushing him a little, getting away from him letting the tear fall from my eyes. I hated that he left me, I hated the way his eyes always twinkled when he saw me in the halls, I hated the way he always cared about me without actually showing it, I hated how much that I don't hate him and that he was the love of my life

I could hear him calling after me and the tears came gushing down. Sobs were escaping my mouth, my lips puffy and shaking. I felt him run into my body, turning me around roughly, making me lean into his chest.

At first, I thrashed my fists into his chest, but eventually gave up once I was getting tired. He continued to hold me tightly. His sobs mixing in with my own, his tears landing onto my head.

I hugged him tightly into me, my head resting on his chest, sobbing. He held me tighter in this state of vulnerability.

I'm sure people were staring at us. To them were just two heartbroken teenagers, to Eli and me, we were a broken family that has lost it's glue to our lives.

Later on in the future, Eli and I will settle our differences and probably try being there for each other. But for now, we were just going to cry for our baby boy.

I could faintly hear a baby saying "Mum!" and I knew it was a message. He was watching over us. He was glad that his mommy and daddy were together again.

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><p><strong>AN: **Review would be quite lovely ;) My Drare story will be updated soon!


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